Lamenting The End Of Laughter

by Hannes Wessels

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’. This old adage is something I remember from my earliest childhood and in the world that I grew up in it was a way of life. Being half-Afrikaner, did not stop me laughing at my lot; I was brought up on a steady slew of ‘Van der Merwe’ jokes and frequently called a ‘Rock-spider’ so I know all about not taking myself, my history or my ethnicity too seriously.

Looking back, I suppose that mindset had a lot to do with the culture of the country in which I was born and raised. The Rhodesian way was essentially libertarian in the classical sense in that the emphasis was on the ability of the individual to shape the future rather than the State. The ‘nanny-state’ was unknown. Within this regimen, we were encouraged, at home and within a disciplined and demanding school system, to find the mettle to fight as many of our own battles as possible before reaching out to a higher authority. This was seen as part of the development of the necessary mental and physical toughness needed to deal with the challenges that life would present. Sports such as rugby and cricket were important components teaching us the value of the camaraderie that comes with being part of a team; how to take a knock, dry your eyes and get back on your feet; how to win, and how to accept defeat with grace and in the spirit of good sportsmanship. Throughout this ‘toughening’ process there was also little prohibition on what one said to one another. This burgeoning ribaldry nurtured what I would call, a ‘brotherly irreverence’ where good friends signalled their special bonds by feeling at liberty to speak their minds and laugh at oneself and at one’s real or imagined failings, no matter how dire the situation. A humbling ethos but a binding one, which served as a strong support  throughout the troubled times visited upon the country and its people. The unusual ability to laugh in the face of adversity using a tough-love type of humour helped us all through the toughest of challenges.

Interestingly, because we all grew up interacting on a daily basis with our African countrymen and women, this friendly frankness transcended race and laid the foundation for a successful multi-racial society. All of us grew up experiencing the warmth and comfort that comes with breaking down racial and cultural divides through forming close and rewarding friendships which have endured and strengthened over the years. These relationships were forged through honest social intercourse where we were all comfortable being what we were, mutually aware of all our differences and the fundamental inequalities but also mindful that through open discussion we had a chance to overcome them. And throughout this process we knew how to laugh at, and with one another. When they say. ‘laughter is the best medicine’, I believe they are right.

In today’s world, dominated by identitarianism, where everyone who is not white, is a potential victim of anything uttered by a white person, that sort of relaxed, robust and often humorous exchange of views and ideas has been outlawed. Replaced by a culture of feigned righteousness where one has to carefully choose words as one navigates through a terminological and verbal minefield leading to serious repercussions following any poorly chosen utterance.  ‘Thought Police’ now enforce new rules of social orthodoxy as determined by the intolerant liberal establishment, backed by expanding legislation and naked censorship.  The consequence is that everyone now signals virtue by ‘acceptable’ words and deeds, infractions are ruthlessly dealt with, and sometimes referred to a higher authority. We now live in a world of ‘hate crime’ where virtually anything one says, no matter how well meant, might be considered offensive and hurtful and thereby criminal. This has impacted our lives at every level of social interaction.  The simple art of conversation has been mutilated into a grotesque fandango across the tight-rope of political correctness, wobbling precariously above the abyss of social, even criminal retribution. Social discourse, public debate and comedy all become especially fraught when venturing anywhere near the matter of race and the slightest mistake might lead to the dreaded accusation of being ‘racist’; this is akin to being fingered in the Salem witch hunt and few, no matter the defence, escape punishment.

The sad irony, against this lamentable backdrop, is that as a white man who has spent his life interacting with black people, as a boy, as a soldier, as a hunter and in the workplace, I look back whimsically at special times of yore; often a lone white man, sitting in the sand around a fire with black men, having some of the happiest, funniest and most enlightening times of my life.

In the world I now find myself, outnumbered by sensitive, parochial, prickly, liberally inclined white people, where conversation is constricted by the rules of political correctness, where laughter is seldom heard because someone might be offended, I miss my black friends more than ever.

As for comedy, the good laughs are gone; like we had watching people like John Cleese. Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Life of Brian and other performances routinely brought me to tears, lifted my life and made millions around the world laugh. Sadly, Cleese will not humour us again; the liberals have silenced him.

Cleese says he has been advised not to perform on university campuses because his jokes “might be deemed cruel and offensive”. He goes further: “If you start to think, ‘ooh, we mustn’t criticise or offend them’, humour is gone, with humour goes a sense of proportion, and then as far as I’m concerned we’re living in (Orwell’s dystopian) ‘1984.’”

 

 

About the Author

17 comments on “Lamenting The End Of Laughter

  1. My father, uncles etc teased us mercilessly when we were little boys. When I arrived at Lllwellyn the instructors tried everything to break us. While they were screaming into our faces we stared steadfastly ahead with Mona Lisa smiles. My dad (as did all Rhodesian dad’s) had prepared us for the world. No matter what anyone said to us we were aware of our self worth and ignore taunts. Clearly the namby pandy wet nurse raised boys of today cannot handle any taunt and crumble.

  2. Great article Hannes.
    True rural Australians, thankfully, have the same ethos. Its a lifesaver to be amongst them.

    • Yes,but don’t they talk funny!
      Give me the strong,sexy Rhodie
      accent any day! LOL.

  3. Hannes, Great blog for a rock spider… 😂😂🤣💦 I guess your Umtali upbringing is paying dividends. Seriously though, today we suffer a very powerful scourge of highly judgmental identity politics, fomented by the left and those who continue to suffer inferiority and low self esteem in society. The reality is that they are the other half of the divide and one of their principal tools is the suppression of free speech and the truth. Our own divide needs to stop pandering to this apparent idealism and resist this political correctness in all we do. We all have a duty to oppose and speak out against this trend, even if we are labeled hate criminals (another insidious identity afforded us) By doing so, we should be careful not to fall into the reverse politic that groups or compartmentalizes people of colour, religion or creed which seems to be entrapping the right. We will nevertheless be identified with the right for resisting the agenda. I enjoyed reading your piece.

  4. Hannes, as usual you have ‘said it like it is’ – brilliant! I would just mention that the word adage means “an OLD saying”, so writing “old adage” means “an old, old saying”.

  5. Oh Hannes – I empathised with every single word … beautifully articulated – and as you opened it up I found myself agreeing more and more. My daughter phone last week to say she hoped the COVID-19 lockdown would last at least another six months because in that time we might have learned how to respect, love and treat each other properly again. Perhaps it will arrest us sufficiently to make the change – but it is a dramatically more awful world today than the one in which we were brought up. Excellent

    • I hope some good comes out of this awful situation. Right now, we are subject to the harshest and longest regimen in the world and no end in sight. I think our rulers are absolutely loving it.

  6. Born and raised in Rhodesia and now living in Texas – I so relate to this story – PC has definitely ruined our world and yearn for those good old days – where million dollar deals were done on a handshake not a 200 page contract

    Thanks for all your stories – always looking forward to the next one

    Stay safe

    • Thanks Rob. Yes, I think quite true to say Rhodesia was built on a handshake.

  7. Hannes, I hear you. It is indeed a sad and humourless world we now live in.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *